Aunt Muriel spoke passionately of her new suitor.
We asked where they met and she said at the market. She’d been bickering with the woman selling root vegetables, her carrots were halfway gone to rot, apparently, and he’d stepped in to defend her.
“A real gentleman,” she said. “They don’t many of those these days.”
They finished their errands, and then had dinner. The next day they’d taken a walk along the river, her suitor picking her a bouquet of daisies, bird’s foot and chicory. He proposed, and she said yes.
He left a month later, with her life’s savings.